Cara Losier

Escape

Autumn is at her heels now,
rolling up the fraying remnants of
past summer days.
She clings to this time of transition.

Unwilling to relinquish her grip
on the sanity of happiness,
she lies awake in the elbow of night
to be aware of each second's death

Etched in smiles and tears are
midnight rides and clandestine kisses
beneath blue and red lights.

And still these moments slip
like wet sand through her fingers
and the witches castles that they leave
behind are sadly lacking in tenants.

{Poem by Cara Losier}

Michael Ceraolo

from New Political/Historical Definitions

capitalism

-a system that spreads the risk among the many
while reserving the rewards for the few


graduated income tax

-a system of taxation where,
if you earn more than a certain amount of money
you graduate from paying taxes


war crimes

-atrocities committed
by the losing side


paired definitions

1. graverobber- one who disturbs the burial sites of whites
archeologist- one who disturbs the burial sites of non-whites

2. madman- one who kills 5 or 10 people for little or no apparent reason
statesman- one who kills hundreds of thousands or even millions of
people for little or no apparent reason

3. class warfare- when someone points out the iniquities of the rich
reality- when someone points out the iniquities of the poor

4. authoritarian- a 'liberal' who has been mugged
civil libertarian- a 'conservative' who has been arrested

5. entitlement- what someone else gets that you don't
sound policy- what you get that someone else doesn't

6. battle- where more Indians are killed and whites act heroically
massacre- where more whites are killed and Indians act cowardly

{By Michael Ceraolo)

Peter Bokor

Incubate

I am tired of fighting
for my place to stand on.
Already the whole world has raced me by
already half my life has sunk down
on the other side.
My blood is tired,
my bones heavier than water.
Everywhere I hear your name.
No one can hear me speak.
It is not that I have a message
like an angel or a sage
it is simply that I hear the whispers,
I know the time
and the movement of the heavens.
If I could only say half the things,
half the things….

A dry season approaches,
sun-polished bones dusted in the desert,
a crackling wind and potholes
in the asphalt. Great cities
that know no desert
will know the dryness and the scorching,
the gulch and the underpass
the railway trestles and the subway track,
watering holes, reservoirs, stalactites and lampposts.
Parallel lives run together in a single line,
a jagged scar tears the abdomen of the earth.
What would have been born dries lifeless encased
In larval shells hidden under turf’s edge.
It is not death that terrifies
But the unbornness.

{Poem by Peter Bokor}

Jessica Parker

Smell of the Past

I could smell the past
Outside today—where the skies cried
As I knelt to my boot
There you were in my mind’s yesterday
Nibbling my lip, breathing in my ear
So I could hear you disappearing
In the sour-sweet of the leaves
Rustling
As I rose
To wipe my mind with the breeze

{Poem by Jessica Parker}

Two Poems by Joy Olree

Eden

My heart is sad,
For eyes that,
Have not seen the light,
Their brilliance,
Dulled by the dark,
We live to die,
The serpents muse,
A hungry soul,
Who dared to,
Eat forbidden fruit,
And suffer for,
The hidden knowledge,
In the wood


Pictures

What you say?
Those hands,
That sheer curtain,
Pictures so intriguing,
That camera, the woman,
What you say?
Beauty in simplicity,
Clutter free art,
Not sure I get it,
The meanings seem,
Clear yet so deep,
Each photo and its, quote,
So memorable so stirring,
Makes one stop and think,
Makes one desire,
To understand,
The soul behind,
The lenses

{Poems by Joy Olree}

One Poem by Ron Koppelberger

Evanescent Whispers

Savoring the vanilla perfumes of ambiance
And silhouette, a perfect sunshine tome in manifest desire
And persevering love, by gauzy lace veils and tender
Availing bones in nourished, resolute suggestions
Of fond bloom and sure pass, by the flame of loves’ alight
In misty twilight array and closer to the secret
Of evanescent whispers.

{Poem by Ron Koppelberger}

One Piece by Luke Armstrong

Dismissibly Diminutive

It’s a small thing
no one says

They all
Agee

It’s a many thing
No one agrees

They all say
It’s that way

It’s a papery thing
So it’s manifested

You don’t see
It’s not these things

But the instruments?
Not necessary at all

And the ink?
Only red tape

The director?
Least important and no

And the musicians?
Not it

Phenomenology?
Not a clue what that is.

Philosophy?
Hardly

But…
And those who ask

Do not understand
The music, temporary, for an instant
More than staffs and scores
More than high school band geeks
More than an underpaid director
More than the instruments imaginable
The music became what it had always been anyways.

{Poem by Luke Armstrong, www.twitter.com/lukespartacus}

One Poem by Brother Mario Andrew Parisi

Involvement

Throw Jonah overboard, he is the source of all our troubles.
Yet, Jesus holds him as the only sign for this lost generation,
this lost, hungry generation!
They longed to fill their bellies with the husks of the swine,
but then they came to their senses.
They swept the shivering world in a running father’s
consuming, embrace.
As for Jonah, he made it to shore, wet.

{Poem by Brother Mario Andrew Parisi, O.S.B.}

Two Poems by Ron Koppelberger

Frenzied Butterflies’

Crazy, advances in history, in conscious dreams of
Season and fashion, a boundary bonded by the close comfort of
Immovable passion and metamorphosis, the hurry in further forward,
In paths of precedented allay, the tide in flow and cascading
Universes of healing baptism, the turn in patient
Moths and frenzied butterflies‘, a prevailing
Wind blustering the landscape and wild
Terrain of distant dust in the
Footfalls of angels.


Drama and Whispers

The desire in terms of need and real hope, a
Conference bestowing the wishes of nature,
The dreams of forward momentum and sly assurance
In muse, in a fools paradise, in joys of faded sovereignty,
Afire in sure sums of ascension, the parable
Of the spectral celebrant, told by the pursuits of
Drama and whispers called in
Nascent existence.

{Poetry by Ron Koppelberger}

One Piece by Olivia Suriani

Lovers To Friends

Show me your emotions,
show me love, anger, or devotion.
But please baby, show me no apathy.
Your love shows me you care and will always be there.
Your anger shows that we were true lovers and are
never more, whilst your passion for me remains.
But say not apathy, give not such a lukewarm ending to such
a passionate and loving yet sordid love affair.
Yes, come at me with rage in your eyes and fire in your heart,
the way you would if I was so deep in you,
the way you are so deep inside me.
As if everything I do touches your very soul.
But don't, don't let me see indifference in your eyes and dull
recollection of things already dead and past in your heart.
For this is the only true tragic love story.
If love turns to hate it remains passionate,
but this emotion I see in you is no emotion at all.
And this is the thing I can not bare.
Let me hate you or let me love you,
For I need some place to pour out all these feelings I have for you.
Say lovers or say that we are enemies but please
never say the words just friends!

dedicated to Modesto

{Poem by Olivia Suriani}

One Piece by Lauren Whitlock

Cold Hit

Strangled:
Zero in on crime

Throat slashed
Night stalker slayings

DNA links
155 registered

Sex offenders
225 tons of fear

Lifeless legs
A piece of trash

We always mourn
the loss of a child

Thursday flowers
Public order

20 lashes, series
Of rampage

Murders buried
Beneath debris

Technical indecency
Prepare for the worst

Death always went
With the territory

{Poem by Lauren Whitlock}

One Piece by Nicole Jovanelly

Hey Mickey, you're so fine

I saw him the other day,
Gnawing on the rhine
Of a molding cantalope,
Crouched in the yellow
Stale piss, glass shards,
And cigarette buds,
Behind the old toys r us.
Slits were in his puffy
White gloves, red crack
Like an earthquake
In his eyes, trembling,
About to shatter.
Whiskers bent like loopy
String of a birthday,
Pocket knives as teeth.
He glanced at me,
The feeling of sewing
Needles crashing against
My spine, momentarily.
He limped toward me,
Begging for spare change
In a crackled tone, holding
His scampy hands out
With the trail of pixi sticks.
"Only five dollars."
Breathing heavily, my body
Twists, changing its course.
His lips drooped, tongue
Pursed, shooting obscenities,
he spit like a fire hydrant.
Accidentally dropping
Some powder on the floor
In his process, frantically
Pushing his fingernail
Into the cracked pavement,
Restoring his product.

{Poem by Nicole Jovanelly}

One Poem by Jessica Flores

Question Mark!

I have not come to like or to dislike
To hate I must first love
To love I must come to feel

I don't know the meaning of the word love or hate
If I do not understand then I cannot do
Because I don't do I do nothing
But doing nothing is doing something

So do I then know
But can I know if I don't know
Then I must come to understand

But I am left confused
Unknowing what I do know
Knowing that I have not come to like or to dislike
So I then now know

That I do not know what I know
Because I know of nothing of what I know

{Poem by Jessica Flores}

One Piece by Jasmine Rawani

Unwelcomed

I know she doesn't care about me.
If she did, she'd be holding me instead of that bottle of vodka.
I'd kill to get her to hug me, or even a pat on the back.
Instead, she shows her affection through bruises and scars
On my face and body, I know it's just the alcohol talking,
But I don't know how to stop it.
My tears of pain are tears of joy to her; she thinks I'm enjoying this.
She doesn't understand that without me, she's screwed.
I work fifty-six hours a week hoping and praying
That we can spend it like a normal family.
Hoping that she spends the money on food for us.
Praying that she, for once, uses the money on something
Other than her addiction, but it never happens.
No one can separate her from her baby.
She says it's the only one who understands her,
And I'm starting to believe it.
She's a crazy lunatic who doesn't give a damn about me.
Sweet dreams, Mother. Pretty soon your life
Will be as dark as the empty hole in your chest.

{Poem by Jasmine Rawani}

One Poem by Samantha Talbot

Gone

She sits and crys in the house alone.
No one to hear her.
No one to comfort her.
Hes gone for good.
Theres no comming back.

The clock on the wall ticks,
time passing by, still no one comes.
She clings to an old t-shirt,
holding the smell of it, of him.

A picture of them on their wedding day,
still sits next to the bed.
She can't bare to look at it,
to be remembered of what will
never be again.

{Poem by Samantha Talbot}

One Poem by Peter Lattu

winter

the fig trees are bare
to winter’s blast
no longer sheltering
our southern glass
leafless to the storm
and winter’s cold
all bare
letting in
the wan winter sun
bringing no warmth
at all
to chase the chill away
winter’s here to stay
the dark is closing in
to take
the warmth away
until
spring glows green

{Poem by Peter Lattu}

One Piece by Tisha Bamba

A New Life

As I start my journey to a new life.
Full of excitement. Full of fears.
Of the known and the unknown, with every bit of wonder.
I'll make it.
I'll take it.
And I'll use it to make me the woman that I know I can be.
I finally seek out to this world for my dreams.
Able to see everything I long to see.
Able to endure the challenges that arise.
I'm a fighter.
I learn to except the sacrifices that help me realize that
I am in the real world.
HE gave me the strength to choose my life.
And this I choose.
The perfect definition of living life.
The heartbreak that comes with it has me appreciate their souls.
So I listen to the amazing sound of these waves that I will miss.
Now everything rests into a memory, that lays in my heart forever.
As I set off to the journey of a new life.
HE will guide Me.

{Poem by Tisha Bamba}

One Poem by Kathleen Coffee

Metamorphosis, for Sir James Jeans

The solar orbit goes ovalesque around
in Gravity’s grooves.
The sun-disk unravels as it travels
or it would have been too hot
for us to handle.
The pressure of the seasons on
the planet’s epidermis
keeps dividing the world
into who’s out and who’s in,
and whose is that fiendish, smirky grin?
Mister Death, is that you?

Is it true by traveling inward
I break out of
my molecular cocoon
into a world of pure wave lengths
where I shed the alphabetic
chain links holding me back,
words dissolving like darkness
in the morning sun?

Such a trip is as difficult
as each becoming all
or all becoming each,
the all inherent in the small,
hard as base being alchemized to gold,
easy as there turned into here,
which happens suddenly
when the butterfly’s no longer a grub.

{Poem by Kathleen Coffee}

Two Poems by Ron Koppelberger

Crystal Flow

On the grounds of swift mayhem and desolate blood, by handfuls
Of dry dirt tinctured scarlet with lichens and moss, near fountains
Of cascading azure life, love and rescued alliance, the trial stained
Crimson and narrow, secret in shadow, in silhouettes
Of gazing thrush and cooing owls, by the destiny of
Eternal waters lead unto the thirst of Spanish
Leagues in native dramas’ in wild hungry desire, the precipice
Of youth, the crystal flow of what’s supposed
By the gods’ and pilgrims in tow.


Rose Water Dreams

The easy evidence of Champaign demeanor and cool
Gilded pearls of contemplation, of shades in ebony,
Echos of celebration, and earned belonging in the
Desires of glowing caste,
By late evening smiles and quiet airs of weekend belonging,
The everything in all and perfumed mists of
Satisfaction, a figurine in cat’s
Eye dialogues and rose water dreams.

{Poetry by Ron Koppelberger}

One Piece by Kasey Carroll

Redondo

You cradle caramel candy and baby spoons
with your calloused, protecting hands
as we sit, buoyant on the sand.
I call you koala bear, staring at me with your
thick maple syrup eyes,
swollen cheeks, balloon lips,
and wet, salty toes.
Big, you look pretty with the birds
as your audience,
You say,
They want to hear your jasmine voice.
Those little pigeons in the distance,
They love unguided sounds.
You move your hands to the beat of the waves, chewing your caramel candy, pocketing your baby spoons,
saving your favorites for later.
I sing loudly and my words weave a blanket around you.
Wool is my favorite feel;
your voice heats my body.
I give you life as you hold the sunset in your hands,
both hanging comfortably beyond the coral sky.
You smile,
Big, watch me, I’m floating.
I see the mystery in you, the cashmere in your laugh.
You play around with the wind; you touch everything in sight,
pouring love potion and passion fruit iced tea into the world.
My eyes circle you, my prey, my pink rose petal.
I tell you I feel like a star tonight, but you’re most valuable.
Big, you’re my golden prize,
and I’m you’re morning sunshine.
So please, keep singing.
This melody climbs an invisible staircase to your waist,
As you inhale,
the sweet air carries you gently to the ground where I sit.
I sway naturally,
intoxicated by the smell of sugar lingering on your neck.
You part your lips,
Big, you’re blushing!
You kiss me like a bruised plum.
I laugh softly,
burying myself in your precious arms.

{Poem by Kasey Carroll}

One Poem by Susan Suriani

For Olivia The Strong

The flower my daughter,
The streams of tears seem like a flower with dew on her cheek,
Her sadness seems unbearably sad when you're the mother,
And you can only listen while your daughter feels so deep.
How can you make everything all right, all beautiful
for such a tender heart who always tries to be true?
How can you tell her you care like God cares,
That he cares as much for her as he cares
for the tree so tall and true?
Yet, fire season does come and strike the tree down,
And firemen come to show their love for the forest
as it lights the sky so blue.
She must go through the fire too as I did,
and as her grandmother before me.
Always remember that pain when it goes away is hardly
remembered even as we can carry on and see hope so closely.

{Poem by Susan Suriani}

One Piece by Dale Craven

Brother

You are my brother
And we are in this together
Until the end

We have broken our bread
And we bid each other peace
And though we both loathe to admit it
Our sister means to speak the truth
To soothe our souls
And to keep us from evil
And,at night,when music plays
We find comfort and solace in each other
Despite our differences

It seems we are all beautiful creations
Named people
Who celebrate life and all the blessings it may bring
When we work together

{Poem by Dale Craven}

One Poem by Derrick Harrison Hurd

In the Pale Moonlight

If the color of the day foretold its story
This day like a siren dawned red
Perhaps a life could be saved
Because of something you said
A monstrous calamity will not occur
Because of something you were
If you rise to meet your destiny
And rain bleeds things white
You will rest in peace and power tonight
In the pearl moonlight

{Poem by Derrick Harrison Hurd}

Two Pieces by Sarah Loveland

Lies

Lies, lies, lies
Everything I say is lies
“I’m going to school”
“I’m going to work”
“I’m going to study with friends”
I look out through the thick steel bars
That embrace and smother me
And I wonder how this happened.
When did that teensy little lie
Turn into a string of lies
And then a web of lies
That entangles me
Even as I sit here behind thick steel bars?

The first time I am discovered
I say to my mother
“I only wanted to try it”
“It won’t happen again”
“I promise”
She believes me and doesn’t tell dad.
I wish now that I can take it back.
I want to take back that first lie
So that maybe all the others
Will cease to exist without it.
I feel like I’ve let down my family.
I can tell they’re disappointed in me
As they speak to me through thick steel bars.

Then I meet him.
He is perfect with his brown hair
His athletic physique
His medical school dreams
And his gorgeous eyes
Which serve merely to mask his deception.
Everyone loves him
And tells me “He’s a keeper”
So I listen to their blind advice
And I keep him.
My parents are proud of me
And I don’t want to lose it.
So I let him corrupt me
And lead me astray
Lead me right after him
Into this room with thick steel bars.

I want to stop these lies.
Stop. Stop. Stop.
But I fear it’s too late.
I fear that I am trapped
Destined to be a liar
Forever behind thick steel bars.


8 ways of looking at a rock

1
rock over scissors
paper over rock

2
dribble the rock
pass the rock
shoot the rock
score

3
a child’s diversion
walking along and kicking
a rock down the street

4
rock broken down
and combined again
to make the sidewalk
on which he drags his feet

5
carved and polished
a rock placed on her finger
a symbol of deepest love

6
he is my rock
my refuge from the storm

7
a rock thrown like a grenade
shows the defiance of a rebel
shattering a French window

8
“hot funk
cool punk
even if it’s old junk
it’s still rock & roll to me”=

{Poems by Sarah Loveland}